“Captain,” a whisper.

“Captain,” again, but louder.

Someone shook his shoulder. McCalla rolled over in his hammock. Then he sat bolt upright.”

“What’s going on? Why have you drawn your sword?” It was Taos. The captain recognized his silhouette in the darkness, the gaunt frame, and long thin neck. The sword shook in his hands.

“There is a lifeboat, sir. There’s a man inside, asleep. Two skeletons are rowing for him, with great speed. They must be under very strict orders to row him away quickly.”

“Row him away from what?” McCalla struggled to think clearly.

“We don’t know. I just spotted him.”

Rolling out of bed, the captain took his sword off the table and strapped it on as he stole toward the door. Taos hung at his elbow and talked as they went.

“I already told the first mate, and he went to wake up some of the lads. The lifeboat isn’t far away, and—”

The captain threw open the door and Taos trailed off. Outside, the fog was dense and a fierce wind keened across the deck. And there were lights. The lights were far away, but bright as lightning, springing up from the water.

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Running to the ship’s railing, the captain peered into the water. At the edge of the lantern’s glow, a lifeboat rolled in the swell. The first mate was at his side in a heartbeat.

“Captain?”

“Bring him in.”

“Aye, sir. Man overboard!” The first mate cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed to the crew.

McCalla surveyed the deck and saw the princess. She wore a thick robe over her nightgown, and shivered in the cold.

When she was close enough, she hollered over the storm. “What is all this racket?” The lanterns cast a harsh light on her face, so that she had to squint, and the fog had turned to rain.

“Don’t trouble yourself, your highness. There was a man overboard—”

“Where is he?”

The captain looked closely at the princess, but his voice betrayed nothing of what he thought.

“Just there,” he said, and the princess followed his gaze. With a grateful look, she strode toward the crowd.

A pair of sailors hauled the man over the railing. He was tall, fleshy, and dark-haired. His clothes were torn, and several tattoos showed through. His arms were wrapped around his own body, as if he were hugging himself to ward off a chill.

When the princess reached the half-drowned man, she shooed away the crew and hunched over him. The man rolled from side to side, as if asleep, and restless. The princess seemed to be speaking with the man, and pulled something from his arms. The man resisted at first, but the princess spoke softly, and the man let his arms fall to his sides. The princess opened her robes and wrapped the thing inside.

Then she stood up and called to the crew, “This man needs help. He is wounded in the leg, and chilled to the bone. His ship was overtaken by raiders this morning, and he has had nothing to eat all day.”

As the crew rushed to help the man, the princess fled toward the stairs. Walking slowly, the captain intercepted her. The princess stopped and gave him an innocent smile. Taking her by the arm, he led her quietly to his quarters and shut the door.